Why, Again, Am I Back In Prison?
by the.authoress.15
Summary: Neal is put back in prison, but not because he broke his and Peter's agreement...actually, he's going undercover as a prisoner on a case for the FBI to figure out who killed another inmate R&R!
1. Back In Jail

Neal noticed that Peter was acting a little oddly as he sat in the conference room on Monday and Peter handed out files with different assignments to the different agents. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but Peter seemed...nervous? Peter didn't give any file to Neal, which made Neal even more suspicious. He raised an eyebrow as Peter excused everyone. Neal stood up, and then Peter spoke to him.

"Neal, could I talk to you for a minute?" he seemed uncomfortable.

Neal raised the other eyebrow as Peter closed the door behind the last agent.

"What's up, Peter?" he asked him easily, giving him a smile. "You look nervous. What's eating at you?" he sat down in one of the chairs around the conference room table and spun a little.

"Well, it's this new case that I needed your help with," Peter started.

Neal chuckled. "You seem to have forgotten what 'Neal Caffrey's handler' means. I am at your beck and call."

Peter ignored the comment, taking a file out of the small stack in his hands and giving it to Neal. Neal opened it and raised an eyebrow, looking up at Peter.

"Isaac Barr?" he said. "I thought he was in prison."

Peter nodded. "He is."

Neal looked back down at the file, skimming through it before looking up at Peter again. "He's dead," he said flatly.

Peter nodded again. "One of the plastic sporks in the cafeteria was smuggled back - Barr was killed in his sleep by his throat being stabbed. The thing is, it was made to look like suicide - the cell door was locked, and the spork lied on the ground beside his cot. But the problem with that is that there weren't Barr's fingerprints on it - it was entirely clean. He was definitely murdered."

Neal nodded and closed the file, looking up at Peter with a smirk on his face. "So _that's _it, huh?" he said candidly. "You're nervous because you think I'm going to refuse."

"Well, Neal, you were there for four years." Peter pointed out. "I don't think you want to go back again."

"Objection," Neal said, raising his hand. "I was there for three years, nine months, and ten days. And then another week when I was framed. And then another after that after Kate died...so that would make it _almost _three years and ten months. _Definitely _not four years."

Peter rolled his eyes. "The point is, I don't know if you want to accept this one."

Neal laughed a little and stood up. "Please, Peter. I'm not _really _going back - I'm just going undercover as a prisoner to figure out who killed Barr, and then I'm back here and working for you."

"Not quite," Peter said. "Only a few of the higher-ups will know about your involvment with us, so the guards won't know anything. If you screw up and attack someone, for example, they're going to put your ass in jail for _real_."

Neal nodded. "Good behavior - got it."

"You won't have any contact with us once you go in, though an agent may go in occassionally to visit and see how you're doing."

Neal nodded. "My new girlfriend - of course. It'll have to be the same woman every time, or it'll be seen as more than a little odd to my fellow inmates."

Peter nodded. "Yes. And speaking of fellow inmates, a few people probably aren't going to like that you were the FBI's go-to guy, so you'll have a target on your back as soon as you step inside those walls."

Neal smiled a little crookedly. "What else is new?"

Peter looked at him and took in a breath. "Are you sure about this, Neal?"

Neal's smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Of course," he said. He put out his hands. "Arrest me, Agent Burke."


	2. More Dangerous Than Anyone Thought

Neal had been in prison for one week now, and many people had already been shooting him the evil eye. Neal didn't mind, being cordial and charming, and a few people didn't care that he'd been involved with the Feds, so he'd already made a few friends.

For example, Patrick Anderson was in for armed robbery, even though the gun hadn't been loaded. He was an okay guy, though a little quiet, and was probably in his mid-to-late forties.

There was also Kenneth Green, a friendly black man he worked out with in the weight room. He was in for grand auto theft, and was a little younger than Neal.

Dave Stone was in his early twenties, and he was also very friendly to Neal. He had gotten caught for forging and selling a Michelangelo on the black market, and he had a year left to serve, already having been there for two years. Neal had taken an instant liking to him, both of them sharing a love for art.

There was also Jason Ford, a forty-something-year-old man who had tried to kidnap his seven-year-old son from the boy's stepmother. Although Neal wasn't such a huge fan of kidnappers, no matter the reason, he seemed an okay guy overall.

But there were even more people who didn't like him. Neal didn't even want to list them all in his head. But he remembered the second day when Wilkes, his old partner, had tried to stick a plastic knife in his stomach during dinner. After that, Wilkes had been put in isolation.

The story for why he had been put back was that he had tried to run, but they'd caught him before he got on the plane to Portugal. It was a believable story.

After lunch on the seventh day there, Neal was told he had a visitor, and smiled as he went to the visiting area. His smile broadened when he saw Diana Berrigan sitting there, and kept smiling as he sat in front of the bulletproof glass separating them.

"Good to see you," Neal said.

Diana smiled, knowing that their conversation was being videoed, although there was no audio, so she could pretend to say something else when really she was talking about the case.

"Hello, Neal," she greeted him, smiling. "Any luck with the case?"

Neal shrugged. "Not really. Peter was right though – a lot of people _really_ don't like me."

"_I _don't like you, and I'm an FBI agent." Diana pointed out only half-jokingly.

"What's the reason for that, do you suppose?" Neal said thoughtfully. "Could it possibly be my charming nature and fast wit? Or maybe it's my rugged good looks."

"No. It's your damn personality that gets everyone. You're put in a circumstance where most people would cower down and hide, but you just smile and charm your way out of it before anyone even really fully realizes what you just did."

Neal was surprised at this admission of Diana's – she was normally more closed off. "Is something going on at the office?" he asked her. "Is Peter alright?"

Diana sighed, though she kept her smile in place for the camera. "You, gone – Peter's concerned about that target you were talking about. It puts him on edge, and you know how he gets then."

Neal nodded, understanding immediately what she was talking about. When Peter was on edge, he was a little…bossy, to put it nicely.

"Tell him that I'm fine," Neal told her. "Even with no weapon, I'm no more helpless than I was walking on the streets of New York in a suit. At least I don't share a cell with anyone."

"But when you're in that cell…" Diana stopped, and then said, "Isaac Barr was in a locked cell in the middle of the night when _he_ was killed. That's what's concerning Peter. Hell, Caffrey – _I'm _worried for you. Maybe we should get you…_some_ sort of weapon, that you could use to defend yourself, should it come down to that."

Neal shook his head. "No – if one of the guards or even another inmate found out that I had a weapon – even a shard of glass – I would be in huge trouble."

Diana nodded reluctantly. "I suppose you're right," she conceded.

Neal bugged out his eyes in mock surprise. "_You_, admitting that _I'm _right? I'm shocked, Diana – truly shocked."

She smirked. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Whoops – too late!" Neal grinned, but then, abruptly, he stopped smiling.

"What's wrong, Caffrey?" Diana was confused at this sudden change in the ex-con.

"You said that Barr was in a locked cell when he was killed. In the middle of the night."

Diana nodded, a bit hesitantly, not sure where Neal was going with this.

"Everyone is in their cell in the middle of the night, and the lock showed no signs of being picked."

"Right," Diana said, nodding. "It was as though someone had opened it with a key. But the only people that have keys to these cells…"

"…are the prison guards," Neal finished. "It's hard to lift keys from these guards – they're trained to prevent just such a thing from happening. So if the only people who have access to these keys are the guards…"

"…then a guard killed Isaac Barr." Diana stared at him. "Dammit, Caffrey – this is more dangerous than _anyone _thought."


	3. okay, guys

**Okay, guys...so I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while and maybe you've lost interest by now, but I'm just going to ask everyone here a teeny little favor...can you guys do that for me?**

**Well, first of all, do you guys want this to be one of those uber-long stories that you never know when it's going to end, a moderately long story, like 15 chapters or so, or one of those shorter stories that's wrapped up really quick?**

**And...whichever one you choose, I don't know how to continue either way, so...could you guys help me out and tell me what should happen next to get things rolling? Pretty please just post your comment in the review section below, and I'll try to get to posting a real chapter ASAP, if I end up actually continuing the story...**

**Anyway, thanks!**

**T.A.15**


	4. Attacked

**Alright, guys, soooooo sorry about the super long wait – it's never been this long for me to update one of my stories here before…but I started another story on my other account that pretty much took all of my time because I KNEW how I wanted everything to go. It looks like the majority of people want a medium-long story, so I figure I'll make this about 10 or 12 chapters…ish. **

**Thanks so much for everyone's reviews…I finally figured out how to write this so that it's not boring to you guys…;) So that's good.**

**Anyway, enough of my babbling. You've waited this long for the chapter, you guys deserve it now! Enjoy!**

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I CAN'T GO BACK THERE?!"

Diana was pissed. She was absolutely pissed off at the sheepish, sweating warden in front of her. Who did he think he _was_? _She_ had the authority here – she should've been allowed through without a moment's pause. Now, she towered imposingly over the man in front of her, trying to weasel her way into the back, at the cells.

"I told you," the warden said, a bit intimidated by the woman. "They've threatened to – "

"I heard you the first time," Diana snapped. "And I know damn well what's happening back there, and if you think _Neal Caffrey _is threatening to shoot the first person to walk in, you're an idiot as well as a bastard."

"I heard him on the phone myself – it was definitely him speaking."

"Give me the damn recording, then," Diana ordered.

The warden paled a bit, now even more nervous. He tugged at his collar as though it were choking him. "Uh…we weren't recording it. We didn't know that there was a problem until the call came through.

Diana dropped the "f-bomb", her expression livid. "Who's in there?" she demanded.

"What?"

"_Who is in the damn room with Neal_?!"

"A few other inmates and a couple of guards," the warden said quickly.

"Names, idiot!" Diana shouted. "What are the damn _names _of the guys in there _with_ him?!"

The warden quickly took a sheet of paper out of his pocket, obviously a hand-written list of the guys in the room with Neal. Diana snatched the list away from him before he even had the chance to read it out loud. She scanned it quickly, and then crumpled it up and threw it at the warden forcefully. It bounced off of his glasses and fell to the floor as Diana continued berating him.

"You son of a bitch!" she growled. "You _really_ need to start doing better checks on your guards back there, because now five other lives are in danger!"

"What do you mean?" the warden asked nervously.

"What the hell do you _think _I mean?" Diana hissed. Without another word to him, she pulled out her phone and dialed her boss' number. Peter picked up on the third ring, and she quickly barked, "Peter, get some backup down here. We've got a hostage situation. Yes. Neal is in there…with our killer."

WCWCWC

_About 1.5 weeks earlier_

Neal was walking along the corridor back to his cell after his visit with Diana when a couple of men intercepted him. These two were a couple of those who didn't agree with his choice of lifestyle after he got out of prison, and Neal immediately knew he was in trouble. He tried to ignore them and walk away, but this only seemed to fuel their anger. One of them, the bigger one, grabbed his shoulder and roughly whirled him around to face him.

"Think you're better than us, Caffrey? Huh? Is that it?"

Neal put up his hands as though in surrender. "Hey, guys, I don't want any trouble. I'm just another prisoner who got put in for a forged painting."

"Sure," one of the guys scoffed and balled his hand into a fist, punching Neal in the gut. The air in Neal's lungs expelled in a whoosh as he tried to double over, but they held him upright.

"Rick," the other guy said, "We're not supposed to take this out on him."

The other guy – Rick – sighed on nodded. "You're right," he said, then shook Neal. "But it's so _fun_."

"He said we could deal with Mr. Caffrey after he did." The other guy said.

"Still, fresh meat is better," Rick sighed.

Neal had recovered enough now, and now he was pissed off. "Let me go," he said with dangerous calm in his voice. "Or I swear I will knock you both on your fat asses."

Rick laughed. "Right," he said, pinching one of Neal's biceps. "'Cause you got more muscles in your skinny arms and long fingers than both us combined." He cursed at Neal, laughing.

"Last warning," Neal said again calmly. When both kept laughing, he sighed and a moment later, both were lying on their backs on the ground, gasping for air as the wind had been knocked from their lungs.

"CAFFREY!"

Neal looked up and saw one of the guards storming toward him. "What is going on here?!"

"They attacked me," Neal said. "I had to get them off me."

The guard grabbed his arm roughly, saying, "You can have all of the others away from you for a week, then." He growled. "Let's get you to solitary confinement."

**WCWCWC**

**Review? ;)**


	5. Jimmy Burger

**Wow...it's been more than a month since I just updated! So sorry for that, but now I got this chapter! So...enjoy! :)**

"He _what_?"

Peter was angry when Diana gave him the news of Neal's actions the day after it had happened. He was downright pissed. Neal was supposed to have been keeping a _low _profile - not pissing off a couple of fat asses to land himself in solitary confinement!

"He wouldn't tell the guards _why _he did it - he's keeping his mouth shut about the whole thing. But when I visited, he told me that they were going to take him to someone _else _to get beat up; he's not sure why."

"It must be our corrupt guard," Peter mused. "Hopefully having Neal in solitary confinement won't put him in more danger than before."

WCWCWC

A week later, Peter was working on some case files when he heard something printing from his fax machine. With a sigh, he finished writing something down and stood up, lazily taking the piece of paper that printed out.

Written in familiar handwriting and taking up the entire page were two words that made his stomach drop.

_JIMMY BURGER_

With a curse, Peter crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash beside his desk and got up. As he practically ran out of his office, he pulled on his suit jacket.

Diana stopped him in the bullpen. "Boss, what's up?"

"It's Neal," Peter said, pulling away from her. "Neal's in trouble."

Then he ran out the door.


	6. Call For Help

Neal had been in solitary confinement for almost a week when his usual guard came to get him. Unlocking the cell door, he said, "Come on, Caffrey."

Neal rose from his cot, saying, "What's happening?"

"Some other guy needs this cell - I'm taking you to a new one."

Neal was confused as he stepped out and the guard took hold of his upper arm - a little tightly, Neal noticed. As they walked down the hallway, Neal questioned him.

"Why am _I _being moved? Why don't you just put the _new _guy in the other one?"

"I don't ask questions, Caffrey, and neither should you. It's none of my business why you need a new cell, but I just follow orders."

Although still confused, Neal instinctively remained silent the rest of the way down the hall. That is, until he passed the cells for solitary confinement and they opened a door down to another hall. This hallway was brighter and better lit, reminding Neal of the back hallways at the FBI offices.

"Where are we going?" Neal said warily.

"Just a little farther, Caffrey. Don't worry about it."

At this comment, everything in Neal's head clicked. As though he'd finally found the missing puzzle piece among many others, he understood. The inmates, the guard, the confinement, the new guard's strange actions, and now this.

This was the corrupt guard.

Neal didn't know what to do. He didn't want to blow his cover - not now - and Diana wasn't visiting any time soon, and no one here knew his cover - not even the warden. He couldn't seek help from another guard - they thought he was just another prisoner and the guard just another guard doing his job.

Neal felt sick. What could he do? Was this guard going to hurt him now? Did he know who he was? What would he do if he found out - if he didn't know already, that is?

Neal decided to keep his cover and follow the guard - for the love of him, he couldn't remember his name - and they soon arrived in a brighter, office-like area.

Neal felt a sense of deja vu as he walked in, feeling almost like he was in the FBI office again. The difference was that instead of Peter next to him, it was a man that possibly wanted to kill him, and there weren't any people around. Maybe it was lunch break for them.

Neal was led into an office, and the guard closed the door.

"Amazing," the guard said as he let go of him. "Even after I dragged you in here and you figured out we're _not _going to the cells, you still don't ask questions. I suppose instinct takes over, then?"

"What?" Neal said blankly, though his mind was racing to find a way out of this situation.

"What happened to your silver tongue, Caffrey? Lost it to the Feds?"

And then Neal knew. He couldn't blow his cover - it was already blown. This guard - whoever he was - already knew who he was and what he'd done.

"What do you want?"

The guard smiled. "I'm glad you asked. I need you to get Burke here."

"Why?" Neal asked warily.

Without warning, the guard reached out and slapped Neal across the face. Neal stumbled back a little, holding a hand to his bleeding lip.

"Nevermind why!" he practically growled. "You know how to get him here fast - do it!"

"Why should I do what you say?" Neal challenged, backing away from the man. "For all I know, you're going to kill both of us."

The guard stepped forward and grabbed his arm, dragging him over to the window and separating several of the blinds. Practically shoving his head forward so that he could see out, the guard pointed to a woman across the street.

"See her?" he said, pointing to the one with strawberry-colored hair. "You don't get Burke here in one hour, and she goes boom, with this gun." he showed him a gun under his jacket.

Neal's heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the woman. She reminded him a lot of his ex-girlfriend, Sara Ellis. He couldn't let her die, and besides, he didn't _know _that the guard wanted to kill Peter.

The guard released Neal and pointed to a fax machine on the other side of the room.

"Send a fax to him," he ordered. "Get him here in an hour, or she's dead."

Neal nodded and went over to the fax machine, taking out a piece of paper and a pen from the cup beside the machine. After a moment of thought, he wrote two simple words:

_JIMMY BURGER_

WCWCWC

As Peter waited impatiently at the elevator, Diana came out and laid a hand on his arm.

"Peter, if you go in there now, his cover will be blown and he'll be in more trouble than he probably is now. Let me go."

"He's in trouble, Diana - his cover is _already _blown," Peter said.

Diana shrugged. "Not necessarily. What exactly happened?"

"A fax came through, in Neal's handwriting."

"What'd it say?"

"Jimmy Burger."

Diana had no idea why that was significant, but seeing Peter's obvious distress, she didn't ask. Instead she said, "Let me go, boss. I'll let you know what's up as soon as I know."

"He sent the fax to _me_, knowing that only I would know what it meant." Peter argued. "He needs _me _to come."

"Maybe, maybe not. But until we're sure, we can't just go storming in there. Let me go - I'll check up on Neal, and I'll call you back when I find out."

Peter let out a long breath. "Okay," he said as the elevator finally arrived. Diana stepped in, leaving Peter back.

"Let me know as _soon _as you know," he said.

Diana nodded as the doors closed. "Will do," she said.

The doors shut.


End file.
